He slanted me a warning look. “Don’t touch my cut while I take a shower.”
“Don’t worry.”
He turned in the doorway to the bathroom. “And don’t try anything or I’ll dump your perky ass in the kennel again.” He closed the door.
“Asshole,” I muttered, but I was almost thankful. If he really did this to protect me, then it was a nice gesture. However, I couldn’t believe it was only because of that.
I’d inherited my father’s distrustful nature and it was rearing its head now. When water began running, I headed for the door and pushed the handle down but it was locked. Male voices and boisterous laughter sounded downstairs, so the locked door was probably for the best anyway.
Glancing at the stack of sandwiches and hearing my stomach’s angry rumble, I finally took one with cheese and ham. I usually didn’t eat carbs or dairy. One made you fat and the other gave you pimples, but I really couldn’t bring myself to care. I stuffed one-third of the sandwich into my mouth and bit off, chewing eagerly. After living in a stinking cage for days and being at the mercy of those bikers, most of my previous worries seemed awfully irrelevant. Briefly my mind touched on the video, wondering who had seen it, but I shoved the thought aside. It wasn’t useful at the moment. The past was the past. I needed to figure out a way to improve my future.
Sooner than expected, Maddox came out of the bathroom and I almost had a heart attack. He wore nothing but boxers, revealing a muscular upper body covered in tattoos. Now the pull-up bar hanging from the ceiling by the window made sense. That body required work. I had to force my eyes away from him. His body screamed bad boy. I’d grown up around bad men, but Maddox carried his very own forbidden, bad boy aura.
Maddox looked at me as if I were an intruder in his space, as if I’d asked to be here, as if any of this had been my choice. He walked over to the small table and grabbed the cigarette package that lay there. “Did you touch my cut?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a piece of leather.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“No, I didn’t touch it.”
He nodded, obviously satisfied. He picked up the packet of cigarettes from the windowsill.
“You’re smoking in your bedroom?”
He put the cigarette into his mouth, lit it and took a deep drag before he finally deemed me with a reply. “Got a problem with that?”
I shrugged. “It’s unhygienic and disgusting. Not to mention dangerous, considering how many people fall asleep with a burning cigarette and set themselves aflame. It’s your health. But I’d prefer if you’d choose something that kills you quicker than nicotine.”
Maddox’s expression twisted with anger and he stalked toward me. I forced myself to stay put and not back away from his fury. “I’m the only thing that stands between you and a bunch of horny bikers who want to get a taste of mafia pussy.”
Why did this enrage him so much? He’d been particularly tense since we arrived in his bedroom. I stiffened. “Why do you even care? Why don’t you let them have a go at me if you hate my family so much?”
“I hate your father. You only annoy the fuck out of me because you don’t even realize how privileged you are.”
Due to his outburst, he’d come very close to me so the scent of his brisk, minty shower gel flooded my nose. His hair was still wet and messily hung down his forehead. My eyes were drawn to the tattoos all over his upper body and arms. Images of hellhounds, knives, skulls and bikes.
“Stop playing the victim here,” I said eventually.
Maddox glared at me but something in his eyes made me feel hot. “I was a victim a long time ago, I’m not now.”
My eyes flickered from the piercing in his tongue to the bar in his nipple.
“I have more,” he said and took another drag.
“Where?” I asked.
His gaze moved down to his boxers. “Two more.”
My mouth fell open, trying to imagine where exactly he had them. My cheeks became hot. “You’re toying with me.” I narrowed my eyes. “You just want to make me nervous.”
“Why would two piercings in my dick make you nervous?” he asked, but his voice had a new, deeper timbre.
I shrugged. “They don’t.”
He smirked, seeing right through me. Everything about Maddox made me nervous. “Go to bed, princess.”
He always succeeded in making the word sound like the worst insult imaginable.
Not wanting to appear scared, I sat on the very edge of the bed, my toes on the floor. The bed linen smelled fresh and not like smoke or sweat. Maybe he normally only smoked with the window open and just didn’t to annoy me.